Mae Day

She loved her first coffee uninterrupted; cheese danish or a plain donut if she absolutely had to have something to eat for breakfast; impromptu drives after dinner with Dad down to the beach to sit on the sea wall; anything to do with her ten grandchildren; and feeling needed and purposeful. She was a quiet force to be reckoned with as she grew older and learned that she mattered as much as the next person. In many ways, my mother came to live life more fully and openly as she neared death. Death was a liberation of sorts. The quintessential peacemaker and peacekeeper realized that she could not be the backbone and voice for others, although she would always champion and advocate for children until the end. In between radiation and chemo or doctors’ visits at Stanford, she and I would often walk over to Lucille Packard Children’s cancer center. It was there on those walks especially that she offered up herself and her own mortality if it meant a child would be spared suffering. That was my mother.

Thirteen years it has been, but today I will think of the seventy she had on this earth and the forty-six plus I had with her. We lived a lot of life together; and although I’ll always think it was never enough, there is a bit more space for solace and joy in my heart this year knowing Donna and my father, her forever love Sam, are spending another year together again.

May Day, indeed. Donna Mae, it is no coincidence that you left us on the first day of the month, the first truly beautiful month of the spring season when flowers bloom, skies clear, and everything comes to life. You were and will always be my forever spring. The memories we shared are a constant source of love and strength.

Hope you and Dad are still kicking up your heels and wowing the audience as you take a turn on the dance floor.

https://youtu.be/RV-Z1YwaOiw

Author: kayymorgan

A fifty-something year-old woman who is learning that sometimes all we have is ourselves, so it's important not to get lost. And if you get lost, sometimes a little bit of social media can save you for a while while you find your way back, your way forward, or your way out and onto the new you.

One thought on “Mae Day”

  1. What a beautiful and poignant piece, Kay; it has brought me to tears. I am so very sorry for your loss!!! These times of change and evolution are incredibly hard and painful, but can also bring forth some of the greatest connections we have, in our lives! There is so much vulnerability and honesty, openness and willingness to be exactly who we are, and have always been, even with the myriad changes life deals us. I hope you can find great peace and comfort in knowing your beautiful parents are dancing together, and that they are always with you!!!

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